


Brynjarr

by MissChrisDaae



Series: Íslendingaþætti Brynjarr [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Mpreg, Intersex Loki, M/M, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Pseudo-Incest, technically post age of ultron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 22:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChrisDaae/pseuds/MissChrisDaae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor takes it upon himself to work at rebuilding all that he and Loki have lost, and ends up gaining far more than either of them ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brynjarr

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request as a prize for an RP giveaway I did. My main Thor won, and asked for a fic/drabble about our married Thorki au. It was originally supposed to be a 2k drabble, but has since ended up being twice that length and I plan to expand this little verse further.  
> Because feels.

The storm was raging outside, the sound of thunder made louder in the cave that lay nestled in the highest peaks of Asgard’s mountains. This did not deter the lone climber who was braving the storm. But then, he was the source of it, what reason did he have to fear his own creations?

The cave’s sole inhabitant extinguished the were-light that had been illuminating the craggy stone as the climber stood in the entrance. “So…” The voice, smooth as spring water, sharp as cut glass, pierced through the darkness. “You came. I was wondering when you would.”

“Bring back the light. Let me see you.”

“Seeing isn’t believing. You should know that by now—”

“Loki.” Thor lowered the hood of his cloak, the gold of his hair and the deep set of his features illuminated by a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky. “Brother. Enough. Please.”

Loki raised his head, summoning the light once more so that green eyes met blue. In over a thousand years, he had never seen Thor looking quite like this, so full of hope and fear at once. “Are you satisfied now?” he asked softly.

“Satisfied?” Thor repeated, closing the distance between them, one hand latching tightly around Loki’s neck to pull him upright. “You made me watch you die, again—”

“I didn’t intend to,” Loki interrupted, his tone and volume unchanged. “I did not mean to deceive you that day. Nor any other day. Do you think I like it any better? Ending it, thinking that I’m bound for Hel, that I will never see you again?”

“Then why?”

“To live a criminal or die your brother? It seemed an easy choice. You needed me in that moment…”

“I have always had need of you, you were… you are my brother.” 

“Am I?” Loki’s jaw set. “You know I’m alive, isn’t that enough? What more do you want from me?”

“What I wanted the last time I found you returned from death. I want you to come home.”

“To what end? Everyone despises me.”

“I don’t.” Thor’s response was so automatic that it startled Loki into silence. The only sound was the roar of the thunder outside, and Thor took advantage of his awestruck brother’s tacit moment to pull him into a tight embrace. “I want you home with me. No one is going to try to kill you, or put you back in the cell, not after all you did to help us at the Convergence.”

“What do you know of it?”

“I know that you returned, that you stopped Father executing us all—”

“That I put him into the Odinsleep and stole the throne?”

“You did well in the time I was gone. And you gave it up.”

“Thor—”

“Loki. I want this to end. All the hatred, the fighting… I want you in my life once again. Please. Do not make me lose you again.”

There was another silence, this one longer, filling the air with a tension that seemed to spark and crack as much as the lightning. Finally, Loki spoke. “I shall give it due consideration.”

———

A week later, Loki arrived at the gates of the citadel, his hands raised, and his face impassive. Thor had to use Mjölnir to get there before the Einherjar could arrest him, and it took nearly ten minutes just to get him through the gates. And another twenty to return to the chambers that had been Loki’s before his fall.

“A gilded cage is still exactly that,” Loki remarked pointedly, going to one of his bookshelves and pulling out a black volume.

“I am not trying to cage you.”

“And does Asgard share your forgiving nature? Can I honestly expect anything less than hatred if I were to leave these rooms as myself?”

“Loki—”

“Thor. I’m not a child. Please, do not try to coddle me.” 

“That was not my intent, brother.” Thor walked over, and took Loki’s face in his hands. “I believe we can make this better. But we must do so together.”

Another silence. The frequency with which they were occurring was becoming alarming. “How far up your ass did you have to reach to find words like those?” They both dissolved into laughter as Thor pounded Loki on the back.

“I knew you were still in there somewhere. Stubborn and incapable of sincerity, as always.”

“Get out of my room, you overgrown bilgesnipe,” Loki growled, returning the strike with one of his own. Thor laughed and ducked out before Loki could attempt any real damage. 

——

The first time it happened was entirely by chance. Three weeks following his return to the palace, Loki had been sitting in Frigga's garden, examining one of the latest treaties with Nidavellir. He was seated so that he leaned against a jasmine tree, the high collar of his tunic uncharacteristically loose, the roll of parchment resting on his knees as he perused it. He had elected to tie his hair back at the base of neck, but several ebony strands were escaping, framing his pale face as it furrowed in concentration.

Thor was transfixed, unable to resist drawing closer as silently as he could. "I know you're there," Loki told him. "And if I wanted to be gawked at, I would be back in the cell. Just tell me what it is you want."

"May I join you?"

"I can hardly stop you, now can I?"

"Loki."

"Oh, very well. Just don't distract me, you’re the one who asked me to look over this before you entered negotiations with the dwarves.”

Thor lowered himself onto the ground, wrapping an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “You’re not still bitter about—”

“If you value your head, do not mention the incident with Brokkr. King of Asgard or no, I will hurt you if you do mention it,” Loki warned, wriggling away from Thor and setting the parchment aside.

“What happened to not distracting you? Your attention seems fairly well diverted at the moment.”

“Yes, well, you exude distraction.” A single long, pale finger traced the contours of Thor’s face, lingering at the corner of his eye. “How could you not be—” 

Thor didn’t give him the chance to complete that thought. Instead, he placed his hand over Loki’s and pulled their faces together, claiming the trickster’s lips with his own. Loki responded immediately, kissing him back with an equal fervor, those tapering fingers sliding up until they were tangled in the braided strands of Thor’s hair, the taste of sage and mint filling Thor’s mouth as Loki’s tongue slipped through the seam of his lips, then suddenly disappeared again as Loki pulled away.

“Don’t toy with me,” he whispered, his smooth voice cracking. “I know you have her. I will not—”

“That’s what worries you? Jane?” Thor looked at Loki in disbelief. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Loki… Jane and I ended things long before I returned to Asgard.”

“What?” Loki had not looked so stunned since the day he had learned of his heritage, though Thor had never seen that. “Thor, after all that you went through, why would you—”

 “Does it matter?” Thor cut him off by bringing their mouths together again. And everything about the way Loki was melting into the embrace said _no, it doesn’t._

——

It happened again. And again. And again. And slowly, but surely, things started to slip back into a comfortable echo of happier times.

Loki began to emerge from his chambers more frequently, and when he did, it was almost assuredly alongside his king. 

The two still referred to one another as 'brother,' and thus, most of Asgard was unaware of the more intimate bond the two were developing.

Not that it was developing at a particularly rapid pace. Loki refused to allow for much in the way of intimacy, and Thor often had to make do with a few admittedly passionate kisses.

Thor did so admirably, not that he had much choice in the matter. For all his improvements, Loki remained private and secretive, something that began to weigh heavily on the shoulders of his once-brother-now-lover.

Finally, Thor grew tired of such treatment, and approached him in the private baths that were attached to Loki's suite. But the moment he opened the door, all words he might have had died on his lips.

Loki was in his Jötun form, his alabaster skin a vivid cerulean, and crossed with varying sets of lines crossing his body. More appealing to look at were the raised symmetrical lines Thor knew to be markings of Jötunheim's Royal House, but, sadly, that was not what caught the thunderer's attention. Instead, his eyes fell upon the shining, twisted scars that laced along Loki's back and arms, thick, ugly twisted things that clearly had not healed properly. What was more, they had to have been new, as Loki had always been extremely meticulous about preserving his body.

_Who showed you this power? Who controls the would-be-king?_

Was this a clue to what had passed for Loki in that year he'd been thought dead? Thor sucked in a breath, and the sound was enough to catch Loki's attention. He turned, a pair of bloody crimson eyes fixing on Thor in a mix of utter betrayal, horror and shame. 

"Get out," he hissed, his voice rougher than usual. The voice of a wounded beast. But Thor did not move. 

"Loki, I won't-"

"I said get out!"

"Not until you tell me how you came by such wounds!"

"I will not tell you again, Odinson!" Loki rose from the water, his skin bleaching back into the ivory Thor had always know, the House Lines disappearing, but the scars remaining. “Get. Out. Now.”

“Tell me, and I’ll go,” Thor insisted, standing his ground. “Not before. I’m not letting you shut me out again, Loki.”

“That is not your right to decide!”

“The hel it isn’t! I’ve let you down enough times already, I will not do so again.”

“Don’t push me, Thor! ” Loki snapped, grabbing his robe and storming back into his own rooms. “I have sworn the oaths, I am yours, but my secrets remain, now and always, mine and mine alone." Thor chased after him, but the door slammed shut, sealing tight with magic.

Thor kept vigil by the doors a full three days, when Loki opened them. He was still in his Æsir form, and his green eyes looked down at Thor with a mix of annoyance and fondness that made a warmth spread through Thor’s chest. “I have told you, time and again, that stubborn streak of yours is going to get you into trouble one day,” the trickster scolded. “And one day, I will not be there to clean up the messes you’ve made.”

“I’ve learned how to cope well enough,” Thor told him gruffly. “Losing you as many times as I have has done that to me. Now, are you going to let me in, or will I be spending another three days waiting?”

“Stubborn fool.” Loki stepped aside, allowing Thor into his chambers. "Must your curiosity continue to damn us? Will you truly persist in this madness until I yield?"

“Is it—”

“Don’t go trying to throw my own words back in my face, it will only make me more irritated with you,” Loki told him, still scowling. “You always have known how to do that exceptionally well.”

“Will you tell me how you came by those scars or no?”

“You will only despise me if I do.”

“I could never despise you.”

“Never is not a word you should use, Thor.”

“And yet I will.” Hating himself for it, Thor closed the distance between the two of them, Loki backing up until his back was pressed against the paneling of the windows. “I will never despise you. There have been moments when I’ve given up on you, Loki, and those are the moments I regret the most. They are the ones that have made me lose you.”

Loki closed his eyes, breathing deeply before he raised his hands to take Thor’s face. “You will lose me again if you persist in this path, Thor. Let it be, _please_ …” His voice cracked on the last word. “For your own sake, _sváss_.”

_Sváss._ Thor hadn’t heard the old tongue of Asgard fall from Loki’s lips since they were boys, and the significance of the fact that Loki had chosen to utter the word _beloved_ in this language was not lost on Thor. “Don’t make this another moment I will come to regret, Loki,” he pleaded softly. “I do not know if I can be strong enough to face losing you again.”

“Trust in my reasons, and you will not have to,” Loki murmured. “Answers will come, in their own time. But not yet. I’m not ready.”

“Then someday, you will tell me?”

“If you still wish it when that day comes.”

“I will… _sváss._ ”

—

Three months after they had first uttered the word _sváss_ , there was a council that put Thor in a very foul state of mind, and all of Asgard knew it from the way it stormed following the messenger’s departure. Loki watched from his balcony, a circle of clear skies around him as the rain descended. He’d been absent from this meeting, working on a correspondence with Freyja regarding her help on talking with Freyr.

“Dare I ask, or will you rant at me about it regardless?” he murmured, hearing Thor approach him from behind. Thor’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and Loki leaned back, smiling softly and setting aside his writing tools. “Tell me, _sváss._ ”

“They want me to send you back to Jötunheim.”

“ _What_?” Loki stiffened in Thor’s embrace, any happiness draining out of his face. “You know I can’t… I’d be killed the moment I set foot there!”

“I said as much.”

“And they don’t give a damn,” Loki surmised. “They still don’t trust me. It’s to be expected, given my past record.”

“You’ve earned your redemption—” Loki pressed a hand against Thor’s cheek, silencing him softly as he looked up at the stormy blue irises.

“I have earned my redemption in the only eyes that matter. Yours.”

“Loki, they will keep pushing the matter, and if public opinion grows against you, I may have to…”

“Don’t. Stop being a king for now. Just be mine.” There was a flicker in Thor’s eyes as those words left Loki’s lips. “Thor… Whatever you’re thinking, tell me now, so I can tell you whether it’s one of your good ones, or an unbelievably stupid one.”

“Later…” Thor kissed him hungrily. “Let me fulfill that request of yours first.”

Hours later, alabaster legs were twisted with tanned ones beneath the sheets of Thor’s bed, Loki’s head resting on Thor’s chest, eyes half-closed. “Are you going to tell me now?” he asked, trailing his fingers along the curves of Thor’s stomach. Thor’s lips brushed against his forehead, and Loki’s eyes closed all the way as he smiled.

“It’s not something I want to tell, it’s something I want to ask,” Thor whispered into his hair. “What would you do if I offered you all of me?”

“Thor, don’t jest about things like that.”

“I’m not jesting.”

“It would never work, you need heirs—”

“I think we both know that isn’t a problem for you.”

“Have you forgotten what we had to go through to convince Býleistr and Helblindi to let me remain here—”

“Now who’s being a king?”

“I’m being _reasonable._ You just managed to secure the peace, don’t jeopardize it for my sake.” Loki’s hand pressed against Thor’s chest, directly above the heart. “It wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Can you trust me?”

“I trust you, that is not the problem, the problem is that no one else in the nine realms trusts _me_.”

“Since when have you cared what anyone else thinks?”

“Thor, stop making jokes about this.”

“Then stop taking this as a joke, and tell me. If it were just us, no realms, no wars, no titles, would you have me? Would you want me?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Loki—”

“You’re not dropping this until I give you an answer, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Ugh, why is it I love you?”

“I’m beginning to think you don’t. If you did, you’d give me an answer.”

“You’re being childish.”

“Give me an answer and I’ll stop.”

“ _This_ is how you’re proposing to me, and you’re honestly wondering why I’m hesitating to give an answer?”

Thor chuckled softly, taking Loki’s marked palm in his own so that the runes brushed against each other. “You remember how we got these?”

“How could I ever forget the closest thing to a perfect moment my life has ever had?”

“I want there to be more moments like it, so many moments that we forget there ever were ones that were unhappy. So will you—”

“ _Yes_. Of course, you idiot.” Loki cut him off, bringing their mouths together once again. This time, his lips tasted of the sweetest triumph.

—

They went back and forth about the details for nearly three months, and, being who he was, Loki managed to win the majority of the arguments. There was no overly grand public ceremony, merely a handfast with a cord that had been woven by Frigga, and the rather skeptical Lady Sif and Warriors Three as witnesses. However, Thor did manage to convince Loki to let him announce his new position as the King’s Consort, which he considered a victory in and of itself.

True to Loki’s prediction, Býleistr and Helblindi had more than a few choice words regarding their little brother’s rise in station, but a single strike of lightning through Utgard silenced them quickly enough.

Thor had been right about Loki’s capabilities, but hearing the screams as Loki labored a full two days to bring their child into the world made him want to swear himself to celibacy for the rest of his life. Finally, Loki’s shouts died down, replaced by the wail of a baby, and Thor nearly knocked Eir down as she opened the door to allow him entry.

Loki was in the very center of the bed, his alabaster skin even paler than usual, and his hair matted with sweat, but his entire face lit up when he saw Thor. “Definitely easier than Sleipnir,” he joked weakly, shifting the babe in his grip so he could reach out, take Thor’s hand and pull him down onto a seated position on the bed. Thor gave a small chuckle at the quip, but his brow was still furrowed in concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Because you never have to do it again if you don’t—”

“We both know I’ve dealt with worse,” Loki reminded him. “Stop fussing over me for once, Thor, and _look at our son_.” Obliging, Thor’s gaze traveled down to the swaddled infant in Loki’s arms. The baby’s cheeks were flushed scarlet, a stark contrast to the soft gold fuzz of his hair. Thor gently reached out a finger to prod the little face, and their son opened his eyes, Loki’s eyes in perfect miniature.

“He was worth it?”

“Every damn instant of it,” Loki confirmed, leaning his head on Thor’s shoulder. “ _Brynjarr._ ”

“That’s his name, is it?”

“I know it’s not technically my right, but—”

“Brynjarr,” Thor repeated. “It’s a good name, I like it.”

“I swear, if you shout ‘another,’ and throw him, it will be the last thing you ever do,” Loki warned, his grip tightening slightly on Brynjarr.

“Loki, I know how to hold a baby.”

“Well, too bad, I’m holding him for now.”

“You’ve been holding him for the better part of a year, let me have a turn.”

“Fine.” Loki shifted, cautiously transferring Brynjarr into his husband’s arms. The boy squirmed for a moment before settling down, nuzzling the curve of his father’s arm with his head, and giving a small yawn as he did. Both parents smiled down at him until Loki’s head started to bob against Thor’s shoulder, leaving the thunder god very comfortably trapped beneath his spouse and his child. He stayed that way for quite some time.

—

“Fandral was expecting you in the training yard.”

“You know I hate swordplay, _Faðir_.” Brynjarr notched another arrow in his bow and pulled back. He waited a moment, then released, hitting the target through the heart. The way his jaw was set made him look even more like his mother than usual.

“You should at least know how to use one.”

“You don’t use a sword. Neither does _Móðir_. So why should I?”

“Your mother has his knives, and I have _Mjölnir_. Both of those can still be used in close combat. A bow cannot be.”

“ _Móðir_ said it was fine for me to practice.”

“Your _móðir_ is a liar, Brynjarr.”

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“He’ll admit it proudly. But he and I still trained with swords when we were your age.”

“You mean when you were still brothers?” Brynjarr’s green eyes narrowed as he notched two arrows at once, his grimace becoming more deeply set. Thor moved behind his son, helping him to adjust the grip and lower his elbow.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Who said it?”

“ Does it matter? They have a point, don’t they?” Brynjarr let go, watching the arrows pin the shoulders of the dummy. “What _Móðir_ and I are…”

“People have a selective memory. They seem to have forgotten your grandfather Odin was half Jötun, and only remember what happened during the war.” Thor pried the bow out of his son’s hands and set it down. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life telling your _móðir_ that I don’t give a damn where he came from, or who his parents were, none of that. What matters to me is him. And you.”

“Please don’t start talking about _Móðir_. You always get starry eyed when you do, and it’s disgusting.” Brynjarr picked up the bow again. “I’m going to find Fandral, apologize, and ask him to take me hunting.”

“Hunting doesn’t seem like much of a punishment.”

“Do I ever get punished?” Asgard’s crown prince smirked up at his father, ducking out of reach and running out before Thor could catch him. Running his fingers through his hair with a sigh, Thor headed into Loki’s study.

Loki was standing hunched over his desk, the gilded wood cracked under his balled fists. “Don’t tell me it was unreasonable.”

“The table did nothing to you.”

“Well, I can hardly throttle Sindri’s heirs, we’d be plunged into a war for that,” Loki growled. “Though I’d damn well like to—”

“Loki.”

“ _Jötun_ , I can take. Freak, monster, traitor, any of that, is fine. But when they come after him, I draw the line.”

“Loki, shhh.” Thor pulled him into a tight hug. “We can’t protect him forever.”

“He’s a child. _Our_ child. How can we not want to protect him?”

“There’s a difference between what we want to do, and what we can do. Better that he learns to deal with it now. Or would you rather we do what my father did to you?”

“Thor…”

“I didn’t think so.” Thor kissed his neck gently. “He’s already on a better path than either of us was at his age. I’ll do everything I can not to fail him, and I know you will too.”

“Those words, Thor… How am I supposed to react when someone calls the best thing in my life a half-breed abomination born of incest?”

“So now Brynjarr’s the best thing in your life?” Thor growled softly, nipping at the skin of Loki’s throat.

“There _were…_ those years when… I was trying to kill you…” Loki groaned, pressing into him. “And this is not the best time to be arousing me. We’re due back in Valaskjálf within the hour, and we both know I am not so quickly satisfied.”

“I’m just trying to get you to relax.”

“I’ll relax when Sindri and her repulsive offspring are out of Asgard.”

“Loki.”

“It’s the truth! I thought you liked it when I did that!”

“You can be more of a child than our son at times.”

“But you love me.”

“I will never fully understand why. But yes.”

“Good. Then we’re even.”


End file.
